


Dick Reacquaints Himself with Dick

by concavecrowns



Category: Raven Cycle - Maggie Stiefvater
Genre: Post-Canon, The inglorious dick pic, mention of kavinsky, mention of non-con, you can see where this is going
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-26
Updated: 2016-09-26
Packaged: 2018-08-17 10:34:10
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 868
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8140789
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/concavecrowns/pseuds/concavecrowns
Summary: Gansey adds the Barns as part of their three-person cross country road trip. Ronan and Gansey flip through his ludicrous adventures so far, and an old image rears its head. They finally have an Important Conversation.





	

A smooth thumb scrolled past the photos on Gansey's phone. Traveling backward in time the only way other people could. In one, the Blue Ridge Mountains rose proudly behind three wind-tousled teens. Henry Cheng's arm draped over Gansey's broader shoulders in a carefully constructed image of aloofness. Blue laughingly shoved Henry away with a hand in his ridiculous dark spikes, her other hand preoccupied with taking the selfie. Gansey looked as though he might fall into them both.

Swipe. 

A shot of Henry drumming on the dash as unknown wind beat at his loose tee. Half of Gansey's face was laughing. A blurry finger obscured the other parts of him. One could almost feel the bass pounding through the photograph. 

Swipe.

Three sets of feet lay in the autumnal grass -- those ridiculous boating shoes, vibrant Sharpied chucks, and red Converse. Dew still hung to the blades about them, hung off the toes of their soles. 

It was the sort of image you'd see on Instagram once it was shoved down the meat grinder of a hipster's black-and-white filter, processed and reprocessed. 

Ronan could almost see Gansey doing it. He prayed to God or whoever was listening that Gansey did not have an Instagram. _Swipe, swipe, swipe._

"Oh," Gansey said as he peeked over Ronan's shoulder. It was the carefully detached sort of _Oh._ The kind that was surprised and slightly disgusted the subject in question hadn't been burned, but still fully aware it had been burned too deeply into his retinas to be forgotten. 

So really, not very surprised at all.

"Oh," Gansey tried again. He leaned an arm across the roof of the BMW on which Ronan was currently lounging. "I didn't know images sent through texts were saved to your phone."

This was true. Ronan only rolled his eyes and smirked back at Gansey. Upside-down, it looked like a frown. "Come on, Dick, you just wanted to keep me close to your heart. Admit it."

"Not _that_ close," Gansey said, though not harshly. 

The image that somehow, against all laws of decency, was still brightly lit on Gansey's phone was Ronan's dick. An Irish flag was proudly fastened to it with a twist tie. It was exactly as uninspiring as Gansey remembered. Ronan had sent him worse pictures.

"Why had you sent me that, anyway?" _While you were with Kavinsky, no less_. "Actually, how did it come to be in the first place?"

A wicked smile knifed across Ronan's jaw.

"On second thought, nevermind," Gansey said. He twirled his hand in an elaborate wave as he pushed away from the car. 

Ronan was silent. His fingers took the photos closer to the present, but his eyes remained in the past, far away. 

Suddenly, Ronan was more present than he had been moments ago. "Wasn't my idea."

Gansey felt the Earth hold its breath. His foot fell to the soil in slow motion. Here, at the Barns, everything felt hyperaware and extra alive. Time slowed here. Cabeswater in a different form.

_what does that mean_

Leaves crunched beneath Gansey's feet. The world breathed.

Carefully casual, Gansey asked, "Whose idea was it?"

Ronan turned piercing blue eyes on Gansey, spearing him. _Really?_ they said. _Don't pretend._

"Were you --" Gansey hadn't the slightest, smallest idea of how to phrase this, what particular question in his language would unlock the answer in Ronan's language. A puzzle box. Every conversation a puzzle. He tried again. "Were you privy to the conception of this idea?"

It was too far removed with far too many fifty dollar words, but Ronan knew exactly what question was coming. How Gansey phrased it didn't matter. 

"Wasn't exactly conscious." 

Gansey turned fully to Ronan. Ronan, whose neck was taut as a wire meant to strangle and behead passing riders. Ronan, who vibrated with the need to leap off the car's hood and drive, drive, drive just to get away from this conversation. Ronan, who had just confessed another secret.

How many more was he holding within himself?

Gansey walked across leaf litter and twigs as loudly as a Gansey could manage. _Never spook a frightened animal._ He leaned into the phone with great interest, a hand braced warmly against Ronan's sharp shoulder. Dusty, well-bred Virginian hair tickled Ronan's ear. His hair was beginning to grow out again, and he had yet to shave it back.

"I'm sorry, Ronan," Gansey said, low and real and just for him. It carried the sentiment that at that burning moment, he was very glad Kavinsky went up in flames. _I'm sorry_ , this time, really meant _I love you._

Ronan's chest surged electric. Whether it was a transformer violently erupting or the thrill of an engine at full throttle, he wasn't sure.

Then, Gansey smiled and pointed to the sloppy selfie on the screen. "Ah, there's our Jane, attempting to dive headfirst into the Grand Canyon."

Ronan's nose wrinkled. "But that's so _pedestrian_."

"Hence the attempt at escape."

Ronan snorted. The veins in his neck throbbed just that much softer. His fist unfurled against the BMW's glossy surface.

Swipe.

"And why the hell is the top half of Cheng hanging out a fifth story window? What happened to his bottom half?"

"We-ell..."

**Author's Note:**

> At exactly 5 am, this thought struck me, again. On my third re-read of The Dream Thieves, I re-realized what I had forgotten. 
> 
> This is really the only way I saw those texts happening the way they did. 
> 
> So I wrote this by 6 am. I do hope its not terrible. Let me know of any mistakes I missed.


End file.
